Impossible
by aDreamAway
Summary: James ponders how impossible everything about Lily Evans is. And, he finds himself realizing, that it'll probably be impossible to be Just Friends with her. Seventh year. L/J. Oneshot.


**Rating: **K+ — not too much in here to be inappropriate. Just a little oneshot.

**Disclaimer: **I'm not nearly crazy enough to try to pass of as J.K. Rowling.

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><p><em>"<em>_Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. Lie down with me, and hold me in your arms."_

_-Ed Sheeran, Kiss Me_

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><p>Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, wild red tendrils escaping from the knot and cascading down in curls which framed her face. There were slight bags under her eyes, bright green eyes which were dimmed in the low lighting of the Gryffindor common room. Ink stained the outer edge of her right pinky finger, smeared after the hours she had been spending on her Transfiguration essay and the latest patrol schedule. She was in pajamas, warm fuzzy oversized sweat pants and a clunky sweater that her mum had struggled to knit the year before.<p>

"You look tired," I said, collapsing into the seat across from her.

"What tipped you off?"

"Lucky guess." She smiled at me and I mentally cursed my stomach for doing little flips. After spending three months of being Just Friends with Lily Evans, my desire to be more than that had intensified. Yet, I reasoned, I'd rather be just her friend than nothing at all. "Let me help you with that."

She looked me up and down and I was suddenly aware of my appearance: I had just gotten back from a grueling Quidditch practice and likely smelled like Sirius's sock drawer. I had received a cut on my cheek earlier in the night and my face was caked with mud from a tumble off of my broom after a stray buldger hit me in the thigh. I was desperately fighting the exhaustion which was seeping into my voice.

"James," she said, her voice soft and frank. "Go to bed. It's okay, I'm just about finished."

I dragged myself out of the chair and limped over to her, grabbing her hand in mine to pull her out of the chair. "We'll finish it in half the time if we work together, Lils. C'mon, let's go sit on the couch by the fire. What are we doing? Patrol list?"

She let me help her up, grabbing the scraps of parchment and her quill. "Well, if you insist."

We worked in a comfortable silence, pausing once when she drew a blanket over both of our laps — "I'm cold," she had muttered — again when she informed me that I smelled (I then proceeded to tell her that her hair was a mess, leaving out the part that I still found it rather fetching). We bickered over whether or not it was fair for Stephen Harvey, a Hufflepuff Fourth Year, to do patrols with a Slytherin. (I was on the side that it was unfair to strap anyone with a sulky Slytherin, Lily informed me that it wasn't proper to stereotype an entire House. After I hotly told her that there wasn't a wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin, she was quite for a while.) She became more talkative after I managed to get Minky, one of the House Elves, to bring us a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"Merlin," I said, leaning back on the couch after we finished, "it's two in the morning."

Lily groaned, plopping back beside me and resting her head on my shoulder. "Sometimes I forget how much I like sleep."

I let out a short, throaty chuckle and glanced downward to see her eyes flicker shut. Instinctually I moved my arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and drawing her closer to me. Friends were allowed to wrap their arms around their friends shoulders, right? I threw my arm over Padfoot's shoulders all the time. Not in the same way, whispered the little voice in the back of my mind.

That little voice didn't haunt me for long, though, because as soon as I completed the action she nuzzled her nose into the side of my neck. Her eyes drifted shut and her breathing slowed.

The action seemed so natural, so familiar, and I found myself kissing the top of her forehead.

I managed to snap out of whatever I was in, but before I could choke out an apology, Lily hummed, muttering, "Do that again."

A smile worked its way to my face, worked its way to the exhaustion, and I did. When my lips found her forehead again, she whispered, "Let's go to sleep, James."

In that moment everything with Lily went from terribly complex I-don't-know-exactly-where-we-stand to simple.

"Okay."

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><p>I woke up three hours later, a chill settling into the common room. Gently, I shook Lily awake. "Flower, we should probably go to bed."<p>

Lily rubbed her eyes blearily and nodded, taking the hand I offered her to get up. Our hands stayed clasped as I walked her towards the girl's staircase. She turned to me, her face impossibly close and I felt my heart began to race in a way that would make Sirius ashamed. She whispered, "James, thank you for helping me with the patrol list."

Her eyes were impossibly green, impossibly close. Everything about her was impossible. I swallowed. "Anything for a fellow Head."

She smiled and my heart soared as she leaned into hug me. It was short and sweet, yet as she pulled away her hands remained clasped behind my neck, my hands resting on her waist.

"James?"

"Yes?" My voice quivered slightly and I mentally cursed myself for being so lost in her.

Then she said quite possibly the one thing that I never expected to hear her say: "Kiss me."

Later, Remus told me that it wasn't _that _much of a surprise, she had told him weeks ago that she knew that it would be impossible to be just friends with me. No, there was never a chance of us being _just _anything. Sirius's only input was that it took me long enough — honestly, a sloth would have moved quicker than I did. He didn't buy my "I didn't know she liked me!" routine, however honest it was. Peter was happy, in the same way that Peter is happy whenever anything good happens to any of the Marauders.

And, it was all so easy.

The impossible became possible, as I smiled at her on the stoop of that stairwell, leaned in, her hands tangling in my hair and mine rubbing soft circles at the small of her back. Our lips met, desperate and slow at the same time, fast but gentle. We pulled away from each other after what seemed like hours, but was probably just minutes, our foreheads resting against each others.

"James," she whispered for the umpteenth time that night (not that I minded the least), "I like you."

"Lily," I repeated, "I like you, too."

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><p><em>Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. It'd be lovely if you'd review. <em>

_-aDreamAway_


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